


How to Date a Racing Driver

by xoxodelvidestruction



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 10:49:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19990909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xoxodelvidestruction/pseuds/xoxodelvidestruction
Summary: Sometimes dating is a learning experience that takes two. Or, maybe it just takes some actual communication.





	How to Date a Racing Driver

5 July 2008 - British Grand Prix

“Finish watching the session,” Frank urged, waving Inkeri away from the crowd of mechanics around Rosberg’s Williams. “We know it’s a suspension problem,” he added, referring to the trouble with Rosberg’s car. He had failed to make it past Q3 and would be starting from pit lane. 

“I’ll keep an eye on Nakajima,” Inkeri replied, turning back to the monitor. 

“I’m sure that’s who you’re watching for,” he chuckled, turning back to the pages of telemetry in front of him. Inkeri grinned, not looking back at him. 

She watched the fifteen minute session carefully, disappointed, but unsurprised, to see Nakajima only get the second Williams to fifteenth on the starting grid. Robert managed to get into the final session. Something looked off with his car, though, as he pulled into his garage. 

A few minutes later, Inkeri stepped out of the William’s pit, looking down pit lane towards Robert’s garage. Other cars were headed to the track for Q1, but he still hadn’t emerged. 

The ten minute session came to an end with Kubica never leaving the pits. Inkeri rejoined the mechanics, taking notes on their discussion. She took a quick glance at her phone but there were no messages. They were meeting tonight so she guessed he would just wait and talk to her then. Hopefully he wouldn’t be in the dark mood she was anticipating. 

It seemed to be a lost hope as she looked at the clock. It was already an hour past their meeting time. Inkeri tried calling him again, but there was still no answer. She shrugged and grabbed her keys off the counter. “Guess I’m coming to you,” she muttered, glad there weren’t tons of people milling around outside.

She made her way through the maze of motorhomes, waving at Fernando as he walked past. He made an exaggerated grimace at her. 

“Robert is very, very grumpy,” he warned. “He said maybe five words after quali.”

“So not much different than usual,” Inkeri grinned, walking up to Robert’s door. She knocked twice, listening for any sign of movement inside. Silence. She knocked again, still hearing nothing. “Kuuuubica, are you in there?” she called through the closed door. Finally, there were footsteps moving toward the door. 

“I thought not answering your calls might explain for me. I don’t want to talk.” 

“Oof, Nando was right. You’re crabby as hell,” she responded, not backing down the stairs. “So we sit in silence together.” Kubica gave her a look that clearly said he didn’t believe her. Inkeri shrugged. “I can manage it. I’ll just stare at your silly hair.” 

Kubica rolled his eyes but stepped back to let her in. Inkeri grinned at him and reached up to smooth some of his wild helmet hair. Robert caught her hand before she pulled away, pressing a kiss to her palm. 

“Bad day.” He let go of her hand and moved back to the table. It was covered in papers. Inkeri sat down across from him, staying quiet. 

Robert sorted through the papers, making sporadic notes or scratching things out. He glanced up a few times, but Inkeri just grinned, enjoying how he looked when he focused. There was something very attractive about the firm set of his jaw or the way it relaxed when he absently chewed on the end of his pen. 

“Can I ask you a technical question or is that off-limits with your team-involvement?” Inkeri shook her head and moved to sit next to him. 

“I can’t tell you about what’s going on in the Williams specifically but I can answer your question on this,” she explained, looking down at the diagram. “I also won’t blab about anything I see in here.”

Robert nodded before launching into a series of questions about the papers he was holding. Inkeri followed along, pointing out certain things she noticed. They bounced ideas back and forth, eventually starting their own sketch of an ECU.

Inkeri grinned as she noticed Robert had fallen asleep, his head no longer just leaning over the papers. Instead, his forehead was pressed to the table and he was snoring softly. As she considered waking him, she noticed something that might be his problem. There was a small flaw in the wiring loom. 

She hurriedly made notations on the diagram, suggesting a small rearrangement to two of the wires. This would change the way the actuators received the electrical signal. Hopefully, it would connect properly and open the air flaps to increase torque. 

The new diagram completed, she glanced at the time. It was well after one a.m. 

“Kubi,” she murmured, gently nudging him. “That’s not a good place to sleep.” He groaned as he sat up, stretching his neck. 

“It’s a  _ really _ bad place to sleep,” he agreed, moving out of the booth after her. 

“You need to get some real sleep before the race. Take this down to your crew and then get to bed,” she suggested, handing him the new sketch. “I don’t know that it will help, but maybe it will give them some new ideas.” 

“How did I miss that?” 

“Sometimes it just takes fresh eyes,” Inkeri shrugged. 

“Thank you,” he said, pulling her into a hug. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. I don’t…”

“It’s ok,” she interrupted. “You opened the door, eventually.” Robert chuckled. “I did come here to ask you something, though. If you have Monday off, would you like to stay an extra day? I finally got that apartment I was telling you about.” Robert smiled broadly. 

“Just Monday?” 

“See, I wanted to say as many days as you can spare but I didn’t want to seem clingy,” Inkeri blushed, toying with her keys. 

“I can take a few days off,” he replied, watching her face light up. 

“Now that that’s settled, I should probably…” Inkeri trailed off, gesturing towards the door. She looked at him for a few more moments, clearly torn between  _ knowing _ she should go and  _ wanting _ to go. “Fuck it,” she muttered under her breath, taking two quick steps toward him. Robert grinned, leaning down to capture her lips in a kiss. Inkeri stood on her tiptoes so he didn’t have to stoop as much, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“I’ll find you after the race,” he said softly, pulling back. Inkeri nodded, resting her forehead against his chest for a second. 

“I like this kissing thing a lot.” 

“Do you?” Kubica chuckled, leaning back so he could look down at her red-cheeks. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? It’s late,” she deflected, turning around and heading for the door. He grinned after her, watching as she jogged away. 

The next day, the race did not go at all as planned. It had been raining all morning and the track was soaked. No one looked very excited to go out on the slippery surface. However, by lap 21 the track was beginning to dry out. 

Several teams brought their drivers in for new slicks, betting on the rain holding off for the rest of the race. Raikkonen stayed out on intermediates and slowly began to drop back through the field. 

Inkeri held her breath as Kubica passed Kovalainen for third place. His car was working properly and she couldn’t deny hoping for a much happier Kubica to make the long train ride with. 

Kubica slid off the track on lap 35 and again on lap 37. She crossed her fingers as he rejoined the track without any obvious damage. He was still maintaining a competitive pace but the rain was continuing to fall harder. 

Finally, on lap 40, Kubica’s luck ran out. He lost control and wound up beached in a gravel trap, his race over. 

“Shit,” Inkeri muttered, looking over at Frank’s equally grim face. The race continued, Rosberg making a massive mistake that cost him his front wing. In the end, only one of the Williams had managed to score a point. One single point. 

“At least Kubica is only two points behind in the championship,” Frank groused, chucking his clipboard onto the table. “I’m going to shave Rosberg’s pretty blond hair.” Inkeri grimaced, hoping her exaggerated expression would mask the laugh she was fighting. She could just imagine Frank angrily rolling after a screaming Rosberg. “I can see that grin. Hide it before dinner tonight or Claire will spend all night telling me to leave you alone.” 

“Oh, actually, I sort of have plans tonight,” Inkeri mentioned, hoping Frank wouldn’t ask a dozen prying questions. He raised one stern brow at her. 

“Plans? After the home race?” 

“Um, yes,” she gulped, suddenly feeling the pressure of having Frank in the same paddock with her crush. 

“Are these secret plans?” he pressed, grinning as he saw the blush rising on her cheeks. “Boy plans?” 

“I invited Robert to have dinner in the city,” she fibbed, wincing as Frank scrutinized her harder. 

“I’m going to call you every half hour to make sure you aren’t getting up to anything.” 

“I’ll answer, naked or not,” Inkeri blurted, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Oh, look. Rosberg’s back already,” she pointed, sneaking out of the garage when Frank turned to look at his driver. He hmpfed as he noticed she was gone. 

Inkeri slowed as she approached Kubica’s garage. He was already showered and dressed in casual clothes, a very annoyed look on his face as he glared at the car. She wondered if a raincheck might be a better idea. 

“Fuck this weekend,” he grumbled as he walked out to meet her. “Let’s get out of here.” He grabbed Inkeri’s hand and took off toward the car park. 

“Hey, don’t you have to do interviews?” Inkeri asked, making a surprised noise as he pulled her along. She jogged for a few strides, catching up to walk beside him. “Rob… Kubica…”

“What?” he snapped, glancing down as Inkeri pulled her hand free. She came to a halt and stared at him, her eyes slowly narrowing as he stayed silent. Robert took a deep breath and walked back to her. “Will you give me time before I talk about it?” Inkeri nodded. 

“You just have to ask, Kubi, not drag me off like some caveman. We’re still learning about each other.” 

“Kubi?” he repeated, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Inkeri blushed a bit as she shrugged. “Right now, I want to go somewhere quiet where no one is going to ask me questions about grip or handling. Also, where I can’t embarrass myself further in front of the girl I like,” he admitted, ducking his head. 

“My neighbor can be loud on the weekends, but I guarantee no one will be asking about racing. Plus, I happen to live above a pie shop,” she grinned, holding out her hand. 

“Who can resist pie?” Kubica responded, taking her outstretched hand. 

“So about this girl....” Kubica groaned but followed along to the taxi stand, hoping Inkeri couldn’t see his grin. 

“The door sticks a little,” Inkeri explained, trying to hide her frustration as her front door refused to open. She bumped her shoulder into it more forcefully, squeaking as the door finally gave way, leaving her tumbling across the threshold, the pizza box in her hands nearly dropping. 

“You should call someone about that,” Kubica suggested, surprised at how protective he felt. The apartment wasn’t terrible, but he still didn’t like the idea of her all alone in a run down area of town. 

“Yea, I will soon. It’s not much, but it’s mine,” she smiled, beckoning him into the tiny flat. It was made up of two rooms, a very small bedroom and a slightly larger area that contained the kitchen and sitting area. The wallpaper was peeling and the kitchen floor bore a black spot that looked suspiciously charred. 

“Your window doesn’t latch!” His mouth dropped open a little as he noticed the twine tying the window shut. She dropped their dinner onto the kitchen table, marching over to him. 

“Ok, ok. Stop scrutinizing and just let me enjoy my independence,” she chided, pulling him away from the broken latch. “This is my first apartment and I’m quite proud of it,” she continued, picking at the corner of a moving box. 

“Sorry,” he relented, walking back to the little kitchen area. “I’m being rude again,” he said sheepishly. 

“Just a little, but you can probably earn my forgiveness.” Kubica looked a little hesitant but overall very excited. 

“How would I do that?” 

“Down boy,” she giggled, rolling her eyes. “Just let me peek behind the wall.” He sobered a little, torn between how much he wanted to let her in and how cautious he felt he should be. 

“That goes both ways,” he replied after a long pause, holding her gaze. Inkeri nodded, sitting down next to him. “Just go easy on me,” Kubica implored, raising an eyebrow as she shrugged. 

“I’m always easy!” she protested, both of them staring at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter. She opened the box and took out a slice of pizza, “I’m going to put pizza in my mouth instead of my foot.” Robert was still grinning, something a little wicked around the corners of his eyes. “Why does Rosberg have it out for you?” Inkeri blurted, suddenly remembering the face Nico made when she mentioned meeting Kubica after qualifying.

“Is that an easy question?” he flinched, reaching for his own slice. 

“You flustered me. I didn’t have time to think up something like what’s your favourite season.” 

“ _ I _ flustered you?” he questioned, wondering if he could distract her from the racing question. Inkeri started to turn pink, her eyes staring intently down at the napkin in front of her. 

“Look, listen, honestly, truthfully,” she babbled, starting to gesture with her hands. “Just being around you sort of flusters me. I like you, I mean, I really like you and this feels very date-like. I am nervous,” she admitted, emphasizing the last word. Inkeri finally went silent, a sense of dread creeping over her as she realised how much she had said. “I wasn’t going to let you be the only one embarrassing yourself. Although, I don’t think you sliding off track in the wet…” 

“Inks,” he interrupted, putting his food down to grab her hands. “I like you, too. I would call this a date, a third date, actually. Pool, wasting your night on my ECU, and now, dinner,” he said, ticking them off on his fingers. 

“Last night wasn’t a date,” she disagreed, shaking her head. Kubica released her hands and went back to eating. 

“It ended with a kiss,” he shrugged. 

“Well I’ll be damned, we’re dating,” Inkeri grinned, feeling pleased with this news. “Now you really do have to tell me why Nico grimaces at the mere mention of your name.” Kubica grumbled and shook his head. 

“I used to build his karts. He made some comments about me not understanding how they worked, so I told everyone I was doing all the work. He just showed up for races.” 

“Wish I could have seen that. He can be a little much sometimes,” she agreed, nodding along with him. “How did you wind up helping him?” 

“I needed money for my own karting season,” he said plainly, walking over to the fridge. “I don’t know why I expected there to be anything in here,” he chuckled, looking over the barren shelves.

“Me either. There’s bottled water under the sink or two bottles of red wine next to it,” Inkeri replied, closing up the nearly empty pizza box. “How old were you?”

“Isn’t it my turn for questions?” Inkeri nodded, grinning sheepishly. “Why does Coulthard act like a mother hen around you?” She groaned, knowing it was a fair question. It didn’t make it any more fun to talk about, though. 

“If you want to talk about that, it’s definitely a wine night,” she replied, grabbing two coffee mugs from the cabinet. “And not one word about these being my only cups,” she added, pointing a finger at him. Kubica held his hands up in surrender. 

Inkeri handed him the cups and pushed back the curtain hiding the under-sink area, grabbing the closest bottle. Kubica watched her struggle for a moment with the corkscrew before depositing the mugs on the small end table next to the couch. He came back into the kitchen and took the bottle and opener from her, easily pulling the cork free. 

“Show off,” she muttered, following him to the couch. “Coulthard was the test driver at WIlliams when my dad was working for the team,” she began, taking the cup Kubica offered. Inkeri turned sideways on the couch, facing him. “I think I was four when he started. He came from a big family so he sort of just started looking after me when he wasn’t helping with testing. We built a lot of Lego.” Inkeri paused, taking a long sip before continuing. “After Senna, Frank convinced my dad to let me go live with Ginny and Claire for a while. He didn’t want me at the track after that. Claire did not enjoy the idea of a little sister hanging around, but she moved out a few months after I got there,” she grinned, remembering how nice Ginny had been to her. “My dad quit just the next year, though, so I moved back with him.” 

“So you really did grow up in the paddock,” Kubica mentioned, reaching over to pull Inkeri’s legs across his lap. 

“Oh yea,” Inkeri nodded, “Definitely a paddock baby. What about you? Grow up on a karting track?” 

“Sort of. There was just one track near where I lived. I got really familiar with it. I didn’t get to do a real full season until I was about 13. I moved to Italy with a team and that was it,” he explained, resting his arms over her knees. 

“Was teenage Kubica as stern as current Kubica?” 

“I’m not stern.” Inkeri snorted. 

“Definitely not, you’re the absolute life of the party. The whole paddock is always gossiping about the happy-go-lucky Pole. ‘He’s such a chatterbox. Kubica is everyone’s best friend.’,” she laughed, poking him in the stomach. 

“Is picking on me your favourite activity?” 

“It’s pretty fun,” Inkeri admitted, nodding. “So, favourite season?” 

“Are we making this a game now?” he asked, finishing off his wine. 

“We did the big chat, might as well get some of the easy ones,” she grinned. 

“I like spring. You?”

“Winter. It’s dark and cold, perfect excuse to stay in bed all day. You can’t just turn my questions around, either,” she chided, holding out her glass for a refill. 

“Ok, winter if it’s not snowing. Although, we can stay in bed all day no matter the season,” he winked. 

“Snow is the best bit! Snowball fights, snow angels,” she argued, ignoring his comment. The idea of staying in bed with Kubica was definitely tempting, but she wasn’t sure if she was ready to take the conversation there. 

“Maybe a little snow,” he conceded. “Favourite book?” 

“Dracula. Favourite band?” His eyebrows raised a little but he didn’t comment.

“Deftones,” he said after a moment of thought. Inkeri bounced a little, scooting closer to him. 

“That’s my favourite, too!” 

The bottle now empty, the conversation had migrated from favourites to sitting together quietly, listening to music on the radio. Inkeri was still turned sideways on the couch but they had ended up so close together that she was practically on his lap. Robert had noticed, but he didn’t point it out for fear of her scooting away. He realised how late it had gotten when Inkeri’s head dropped onto his shoulder, a giant yawn escaping her. 

“I kept you up last night, so I should probably let you get some sleep,” he said softly, rearranging her so he could get up from the couch. Robert reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet. 

Inkeri leaned against him, her eyes still closed. He grinned and kissed the side of her head, surprised at how quickly her energy had run down.

“Sleep,” she mumbled, wandering towards her bed. Inkeri paused in the doorway, turning her head to look at him. She cracked one eye open and frowned at him. “The couch is little,” she murmured, giving him a ‘this way’ gesture before disappearing into the dark room. 

“Just sleep,” he repeated to himself, taking a deep breath. 

Inkeri woke up a few hours later, slightly disoriented from falling asleep with her contacts in. She started to stretch but went still as she realised Kubica was in bed with her. His breathing was still even so she risked a glance at him, slowly remembering that she had invited him into her room, and shucked her jeans at some point. The complete exhaustion had knocked out her rational thinking. 

After a few moments, she realised Kubica’s eyes were open. He was laying on his side facing her, one hand reaching out to softly brush the hair from her forehead. 

“Kochanie,” he murmured, his dark eyes following his fingertips as they traced over her face. His hand trailed down to her neck and he looked back at her eyes. It was so quiet Inkeri was certain he could hear her heart beating. Here, in the dark, everything felt so much more intimate. 

“Please kiss me,” she whispered, glad he couldn’t see the flush spreading over her chest in the darkness of her room. The way he was staring at her ignited a completely different type of butterflies in her stomach. Robert’s grip tightened slightly on the back of her neck, his fingers carding through her hair as he leaned over her. 

Inkeri barely had time to be ashamed of how tightly her hands gripped his shirt as he kissed her, hungrily, desperately. Every thought she had was now completely focused on the sensation of his tongue exploring hers, his hand leaving a trail of fire as it slid under her shirt. 

She tugged at the hem of his shirt and Robert obliged, pulling back just long enough to let her pull it over his head. He sat up a little more, giving her room to sit up. 

Inkeri yanked her shirt over her head, her skin too hot, the fabric smothering her. Her fingers dug into Robert’s shoulders as she tugged him down onto the bed with her. Everything felt like too much and not enough. 

He moved back over her, feeling encouraged by the sounds escaping her as he sucked a small bruise on her collarbone. His thumb tentatively pushed under the leg of her underwear, stroking the skin of her hip beneath the fabric. Robert’s hand slowly moved lower. 

“Wait, wait,” Inkeri whispered, her nerves suddenly hitting. 

“What’s wrong?” He noticed how tense she had suddenly become, moving his hand to safer place. He was also careful to keep his eyes on her face. 

“Nothing, I-I,” she stammered, wishing she could ignore the little nervous pit in her stomach. 

“Kochanie, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” he reassured, rolling so that he was next to her. 

“No, it’s not… I  _ do _ want this, I just… I’ve never…” she began again, unable to finish her sentence. Robert leaned up on his elbow, still keeping his eyes on hers. Inkeri squeezed her eyes shut, covering her face with her hands. “It’s your turn to embarrass yourself, not mine,” she whined, peeking out between her fingers when he chuckled. 

“If we hadn’t paused, I definitely would have.” Inkeri grinned despite how she was feeling. “There’s no rush,” he added, pulling one hand away from her face. 

“I want this,” she repeated, using their linked hands to pull him towards her. “I just need to go a little slow.” Robert grinned, the smile still evident on his mouth as he kissed her. 

“This is one thing I can do slowly.” Inkeri nodded, the corner of her mouth quirked upwards as she looked at him. This was what it felt like to really trust someone. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have been dying to write out their first date so this gave me a great opportunity! This is just a piece from a larger story, but I was too excited to share it. 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys!


End file.
